AGAINST THE ODDS

★★★★★

Everyone slowly deserted the room and Imran's mother and her co-wife left to attend to some new guests whom I assumed were other close relatives.

Again, Imran had disappeared into the thin air and so did the others, leaving me alone in their grandmother's room. I headed toward the room where the party was being held and I saw some of the guests exiting the room one after the other. The party was slowly coming to an end, I presumed.

I headed downstairs and made my way towards the front door. Immediately I opened the door, a cool breeze hit through my fabric and landed on my skin. I felt my body shiver a little as I descended the perron, supporting myself to balance on my heels by pressing a hand against the wall.

"What a good time to snuggle my blankie," I said under my breath, looking up at the sky, I saw that the stars were scantier than I remembered. Where did all the stars go? It couldn't be that they fell off the sky just as Father would say when I was little.

My mind temporarily drifted to my father and suddenly I realized how much I had missed him. I wished he was still here. He always had answers to all my questions. Why was I feeling this way all of a sudden? Like a sad little child.

Again, my legs hurt so I quickly slipped off my heels and laid them next to the entrance door. I ignored the coldness of the serene atmosphere outside and started to wander on the lawn barefooted. My feet felt relaxed, stepping onto the soft grass.

The exterior was naturally captivating with the flowers, the lawn, the trees, and even the pool. Despite the highly modernized architecture, the surroundings drew me closer to nature. This was the importance of having your own space. We lived in an apartment building so there was hardly any space to cultivate your flowers. One couldn't even sit outside to breathe in the fresh air, you'd always have strangers lingering, and most of the men that came around the neighborhood as visitors would dig their eyes into you, trying to look through your soul. It was Haram, but nobody gave a damn about that.

I stopped walking and sat on a trunk of dead wood which was lying horizontally somewhere in the compound.

My phone kept buzzing in my purse. I ignored it because I guessed Mother was calling. I knew she was going to whine me to death, telling me to come home. I didn't want to go home. By the way, I didn't know what time it was but I felt it was too early to leave and I was anticipating a surprise from Imran. It was the reason I deliberately put my phone on vibration so she couldn't ruin my precious time with him.

"Hey, what are you doing here all by yourself? '' I raised my head to see Imran standing behind me. He had taken off his tuxedo jacket, leaving on a white long-sleeved shirt under a cummerbund, his tie was slightly loosened around the neck, exposing his perfect collar bone.

"Nothing, I just felt like taking a walk outside and I came across this beautiful." I tapped lightly on the log.

"It really does look beautiful," He stated and crossed over to sit near me but left just enough space to avoid physical contact with me.

"I guess it does," I smiled, sensing his sarcasm. He might never understand my connection with nature. After all, he was an IT guy and if he had any opinion on how to make technology more attractive, he'd be more than happy to share. I, on the other hand, was more of a nature lover who finds beauty in gardening, taking a walk on a path shaded by trees, painting random pictures, listening to chirping birds, and a lot of other cool stuff.

He chuckled, saying, "You do see beauty in everything, even in the ugliest of things."

"Is that a compliment?" I cocked my head at him.

"It's more than a compliment." He smiled and his gaze met mine and I looked away. I didn't know what to say next. We stayed mute for a while. I started fiddling with the hem of my sleeve.

The image of his brother yelling at me in the hallway flashed in my mind. My smile slowly turned into a small frown.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Came his whisper.

"Nothing really," I wanted to wave the question off but my mouth tended to be faster than my brain "It's just that I did not make a good impression on your brother." Really? That wasn't even what I had in mind.

"Is that why you are worried?"

"Not exactly,"

"Not to worry, he said he is sorry."

"Really? How did you know" My eyes went wide.

"He told me everything"

"When?"

"When we left the room. We had a man talk and he spoke nicely about you. So you have nothing to worry about." He assured me.

What did you guys discuss about me? I felt like asking but realized how stupid the question sounded in my head. I let out a small chuckle to hide my distress. "Did you give him the gift?"

"Yes, I did. He liked it and he said that he appreciated your coming. So he asked me to thank you." I looked at him smiling in an attempt to hide any sign of annoyance because I knew he was lying. Lying just to paint his brother good. That proud man would never utter such nice words. I saw it in his eyes, he didn't have kindness in his DNA.

I tried not to think about my disastrous encounter with Zayn and focus on what truly mattered to me right that moment, Imran. "You said you were going to show me something after the party."

"Yeah, come let me show you." He pulled me up from the log. Finally, he was going to show me the surprise. "I promise you are going to love it."

"I'm sorry about my grandma." He said as we walked slowly across the lawn. "I hope she didn't embarrass you much."

"No, she was just being sweet." I grinned, picturing their cute grandmother's face.

"Inna wants us to get married. She said she wants to see her great-grandkids before she dies." I stifled a laugh at the thought of Grandma pushing them to marry early. I didn't know about Zayn but Imran was too young for marital responsibilities. He still had a long way to go.

"Do you know what's funnier?" I shook my head, smiling. "She wants to break a record as the grandmother with the highest number of great-grandkids in our family. Can you believe that?" It sounded pretty absurd but I couldn't help but laugh.

"Your grandma is really funny," I admitted.

"I know right" He sighed and paused. "You might want to close your eyes now." He instructed as we got closer to the garage.

"What! Why?"

"Just do as I say, trust me." I did exactly as I was told by burying my face in my palms.

"No, I don't want you to peek." He brought out a handkerchief from his pocket and blindfolded me with it.

"Come on, this way" He guided me in a certain direction.

"Where are we going?" I asked, almost whining.

"Somewhere." I heard him laughing.

We walked a little longer. I turned, accidentally brushing my hand against his as he led me through a door that felt like glass. Touching the frame, it was cold against my palm. We reached somewhere and he stopped.

"You can take off the blindfold now," He said. A mixture of nervousness and excitement surged through me as I slowly took off the blindfold in anticipation.

I gaped at the sight in front of me when my eyes were finally exposed again. "Oh My God!" I exclaimed, taking in the appearance of the paradise in front of me.

"So, what do you think?" I tried not to blush when he deliberately held my hand in his.

"This is beautiful!" I said softly. I felt like hugging him at that instant but a voice at the back of my neck kept reminding me of the barrier between us. I took a few steps towards my favorite flower of all time, as soon as I laid my eyes on it. I loved all the roses but red was my favorite.

Oh yes! We were in a huge greenhouse garden containing a wide variety of flowers. The memories of this place will linger in my heart for years, especially knowing that I might never get to see it again. If this was the surprise he had in store for me, he got me really good.

I bent over and inhaled the amazing scent of the rose, it smelt lovely. Imran and I walked along the rows between each flower bed as I lectured him about the different flowers. He seemed so clueless at first but gradually picked up my lecture. He was a good listener as he kept nodding and humming. He asked a few questions and I gave him answers.

We sat on a bench somewhere in the middle of the garden and somehow I realized we'd be holding hands all the while. I didn't care much because we didn't mean anything by it.

"So, how did you know so much about flowers?" He asked.

"I did a lot of research online and I got most of the info from my botany professor at level one. My professor is very scholarly and he loves explaining things in detail." I explained and he nodded. We sat in silence for a while before he finally spoke.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" He looked as though he was searching for the right words. This could be it. He was finally going to ask me out. God, I hate the feeling of nervousness. What am I going to say if he finally did? Should I just tell him that I wasn't ready?

"Sure," I said in a small voice.

"Well, I was thinking, what will you do after school? You know, two years from now" Gosh! I didn't see that coming. Honestly, I didn't have the answer to that question.

"I don't know," I said looking down at my feet, I had been walking barefoot. Disappointment surged through me. I honestly didn't get why I was annoyed by his question. Maybe I was expecting too much from him.

"What would you do with your life if money was not in the picture." He moved closer and held both of my hands in his. I didn't budge. Although I felt a little uneasy, it was exactly what I needed at that moment, comfort from his hold. I stared at him with a confused look. I didn't get the question.

"Okay, Let me make it easy for you, what are you willing to do freely?" He moved even closer. I looked up at the blue fluorescent light, it was dim, making the garden look magical, especially when I saw through the glasses. The moon and everything all together were just magnificent.

I think back to the question, again I didn't have any rational answer. "I...don't.." I opened my mouth to speak but the words just wouldn't come out because his face was so close to mine that I could feel the heat from his breath. His eyes fell on my lips and all of a sudden I was hot inside. It couldn't be what I was thinking.

I blinked upon the sudden realization and something resonated in my head. I had promised myself that I would never kiss any man on the lips except my husband.

"I don't know" I gasped and our eyes locked. I felt my heart beating faster than normal as I stared deep into his hazelnut eyes. I shifted my gaze to his lips, they were pink and bow-shaped. His mouth parted, bringing his lips to mine. I shut my eyes slowly ignoring the explosion in my head, anxiety, and thirst.

There is something sweet about something forbidden. The soul usually knows what to do to quench its desires. The challenge is to silence the mind.

The voices in my head were killing me, one was telling me to pull away and the other told me to relax, that it was just a simple kiss, it wouldn't hurt. I knew it was wrong but I was dying to taste his lips. It was the only way I could quench the fire burning inside of me.

"Find what you love and money will look for you," he said in a low voice and I shut my eyes completely. I sensed him bringing his lips almost touching mine.

What are we doing? My heart skipped a thousand times in a moment.

My phone buzzed and I thought my heart rate had finally stopped, bringing me back to reality. I pulled back very quickly. I reached for my phone unhesitatingly in my purse with shaking hands. It was my mother. Out of fear and confusion, I unintendedly picked up the call.

"Hello," I said into the phone with my heart beating profusely in my chest. Mother was yelling something I didn't understand and I was trying my best not to sound suspicious, for a reason I didn't know.

"What are you still doing there? Isn't it high time you came home?" She screamed from the other end. Awkwardness filled the air. I bit my lips, looking over at Imran. He was looking aimlessly at the entire garden, anywhere else but me. I thought I saw him suppressing a smile.

"Mama please calm down, I'm coming home now," I said nicely like the perfect daughter that I was, SubhanAllah! Who was I again?

"Better be home before midnight else you might never step foot into this house again." She threatened and hung up on me. I looked at the time on my phone, it was 11:35. Damn! It was late. No wonder she was roaring like a lioness. I turned to Imran.

"Er..it was my mum. She wants me to come home now." I tried to explain to him but he shoved it off with a knowing smile. I guessed he overheard us talking.

"Alright, let's get you home." His voice was neutral but I could tell he was uneasy too. What would have happened if my mum hadn't called? Would we have kissed? Normally I would cringe at the thought if it was anyone else. But I found myself thrilled at the thought of us kissing.

Haram! Satan was playing dice with my mind.

Moments later my phone buzzed again, I glanced at the screen and saw that I'd received a text message from Salma, telling me that she couldn't sleep alone in my room so she had to sleep in the guest's room with my sister and her kids. Glancing at the notification area, I saw that Salma and Teslim had given me sixteen missed calls, eleven from Salma and five from my sister.

These two have got to be kidding me. I struggled with the thought of whether to call them back and who to call first. After battling with my thoughts for what seemed like forever I finally settled on a single decision not to call anyone of them.

Imran had risen to his feet and I did the same, tailing behind him. Soon we got to the parking space where his car was parked. He left to get my shoes from where I had left them. We got in the car and he drove quietly from street to street before driving onto the main road. He tried to apologize for what had happened in the garden but I assured him that it was no big deal.

Actually, it was. I couldn't imagine what would have happened if my mother hadn't called. For the first time in my life, I was glad that Mum called at the wrong moment. I secretly smiled at my embarrassment.

*****

Imran dropped me off at our apartment fifteen minutes past twelve. I was preparing for my funeral because I knew was already a dead meat.

We said our salaam and he apologized again for the awkward incident in the garden and for making me stay up late at night outside my home. I told him it was fine and there was nothing to worry about. He gave me an apologetic look before hopping into his car as though he sensed that I was lying through my teeth-Honestly, there was a lot to worry about as I was already visualizing my own grave.

After he had driven off I tiptoed into our flat, holding my shoes and purse to my chest. I heaved a sigh of relief when I didn't find Mother or anyone in the living room. I guessed she might be sleeping. I headed up the stairs to my room and holy shit! I felt like my soul had left my body when I saw the spirit standing by my doorway. The aura around her screamed danger as she glared at me with her hands folded across her chest.

I wish I were Flash from The Justice League. I could use his superpowers right that moment, just run back in time and change everything that had happened that night.

"Young lady, go back to where you're coming from."Her voice was thunderous and her stance fierce.

"Umma, I can explain. There was traffic and the car had issues." I lied wholeheartedly out of fear and guilt but she wasn't taking any of those cheap lies. I was feeling guilt for what didn't happen and fear of awakening her anger.

"I gave you an inch and you took miles. Didn't I tell you to come home early? How many responsible girls do you see outside by this time of the night."She was roaring in horror at me, throwing her hands in the air out of anger and frustration was evident in her eyes.

I just stood there, looking down at myself in abashment. My shoes and purse were lying on the floor. I had dropped them subconsciously when Mother's sudden appearance startled me.

Great! This was my first step to freedom and I blew it, I totally blew it!

"Mama, please calm down!" I begged.

"Don't tell me to calm down you uncultured little fool." Ouch! That was deep. Seriously, where was that sweet angel I saw yesterday? The lovely woman who helped me to pick out my outfit.

"Had anyone seen you out there by this time of the night they would say your mother did not raise you well. They'll blame me for your frivolity." I shook my head in dismay.

Who cares about what anyone thinks? Definitely not me because I didn't do anything wrong, guilty conscience! Mum gave me a dark look as though she read my mind, maybe the expression on my face gave me away.

"I'm sorry ma." I fixed my gaze on the floor because right then that was the only thing I could do.

"Well, I don't need you to be sorry because it is only a shameless girl that would go out and come back home by this hour of the night. I gave you a simple instruction but you deliberately disobeyed me. If you don't fear me, don't you fear Allah?" This was the downside to living with my mother. When things didn't go her way with me, she thought of it as disobedience and took it all to heart, blowing everything out of proportion.

Why were things so complicated between me and my mother? I blinked away the small tears that were threatening to drop from the corners of my eyes but my mouth kept twitching. I wanted to say something but couldn't say it because I didn't want to cry. I couldn't cry in front of my mother or anyone because I believed that I was stronger and bigger than my problems. After Father's demise, nothing had brought tears to my eyes apart from now that my mother was yelling and indirectly calling me a loose girl.

"Let me tell you something, rules are rules, without them, we'll be nothing more than barbarians. You are a Muslim and as such you should act like one." She spat and this time I couldn't fight the urge to say what I had in mind and immediately regretted ever opening my mouth.

"Have I not been acting well?" I broke into loud sobs but I couldn't stop talking or crying. "You knew about the party the whole time, you knew but you dishonored your friend's invitation, telling her that you were sick." She looked shocked. If not for the fact that I was too angry and emotional, I could burst out laughing at the look on her face.

"Well, are you sick now? Who is a better Muslim? The one who lies to a friend, giving her a flimsy excuse to hide your incapacity, or the one who does the exact opposite? What are you so ashamed of that you'd rather hide under this roof to cover? What are you hiding, Mum?" I wiped away the warm stream of tears flowing down my cheeks.

"How dare you talk to your mother in such a manner. It seemed you've grown wings and I can see you flying beyond your limit" She growled, her face deadly. "Wallah, I'm going to cut down those wings of yours, you are never going to attend any occasion again in this house. Not on my watch. No more parties, no more weddings and that's final. Now go to your room, you shameless child." She commanded, leaving me in the corridor. I picked up my things from the floor and headed into my room, slamming the door behind me with all my might.

I threw my purse on the bed and flung my shoes on the floor. I collapsed on the bed helplessly looking up at the ceiling as though it was the most interesting thing in the world. I couldn't hold in my tears anymore. I let them out, loud and free. I felt my chest relieved of all aches but the pain in my head just wouldn't go away. After crying for God knows how long, I headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Upon getting out of the bathroom I untamed my hair slipped into my pyjamas, put off the bedside lamp, fell on my bed, and tensed into a deep sleep.

*****

The next morning I woke up to the voice of the muezzin calling the Adhan. I rolled over on my side, pushing the blanket slowly off my body, and then slipped out of the bed. My sight was hazy when I turned on the light. I didn't sleep well last night, it was a short night. It felt like I just shut my eyes for a few minutes and then on opening them, it was dawn.

I started to make my way to the bathroom, I couldn't ignore the sharp ache at the back of my head. I had woken up with a throbbing headache.

I almost tripped when I stubbed my toe on my stiletto heels which were laying carelessly on the floor. Suddenly all the memories from last night erupted in my head like an angry volcano. I tried my best not to think about anything, that was how I realized forcing yourself not to think was the hardest thing in the world. It was like solving calculus in one's mind.

I performed ghusl (spiritual bath) in the bathroom and headed out, threw on a random T-shirt and an ash sweatpant, my white khimar, and performed my Fajr salaat. After my prayer, I offered some dua about my problem. I brought out my Qur'an and recited a few verses before heading downstairs.

I went straight to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I didn't want to stress myself so I prepared something simple: hot chocolate and a vegetable source sandwich. I thought of making toast but I figured it would waste my time.

Not wasting any of my time I set the dining table, serving out mine and Mum's breakfast first before the others. My head still ached but a little less than before. I planned to go to the chemist's after my breakfast.

My mother was still in her room I supposed, it was Sunday so she probably wouldn't go to work. As I approached her door I heard her reciting a verse from the Qur'an. She did that every morning before stepping out of her room. It was a good thing she passed the trait to me as I always felt empty any day I forgot to recite in the morning.

The time was five minutes past six, I didn't know if I should interrupt my mum after last night's incident. I said the salaam and slipped past the door effortlessly because it was unlocked. Mother didn't answer my greeting because she was still reciting. I stared aimlessly around the room like I wasn't in my own mother's room.

I knew, after the midnight trauma I was supposed to be mad at her and all but I couldn't let it all out. I had suppressed the feeling. I just wanted to reconnect with her as she was the only intimate family I had and I couldn't bear to see her struggle emotionally. She was a strong woman naturally and could get through hardship on her own but I still had a duty as a daughter, to always make her happy, but that didn't mean she was right about the way she treated me last night.

She concluded her recitation and turned to reply to my greeting.

"Wa alaikum salaam,'' her voice was neutral.

"How was your night? Did you sleep well last night?" She asked me to fold up her prayer mat, which I did. I noticed she couldn't stay angry with me for long.

"I barely slept and I woke up with a headache." I sounded awkward. That moment when you're talking to someone you should naturally be vexed with and at the same time happy that the person had spoken to you in a nice tone.

After folding the prayer mat, I handed it to her and she neatly put it away. I saw her reaching for her first aid box on the top of her wardrobe.

"Breakfast is ready," I informed her. She gave me a surprised look. I knew the reason behind that look. I never used to wake up early to prepare breakfast. Without intending I had done everything quickly that morning to impress her. Was this my way of apologizing to her?

"What did you do?"She gave me a questioning look, placing the box on her bed.

"Don't give me that look." A small smile crooked its way to my lips. "I prepared it all by myself."

"I never said you didn't. I'm just wondering how. You woke up early? Prepared breakfast? That's not you at all." I saw her lips twitch into a small smile. She was curiously searching for something in the box.

"So, now you are saying?" I folded my arms in front of me.

"That you've changed." She took out a blister pack and handed it to me.

"Here, take two pills after your breakfast" I took the pack from her and tried to pronounce the complicated word written boldly on it.

"Why, what's this?"

"A painkiller, it will relieve you of the headache."

"Oh, na gode mama (Thank you, mum)." Came my short response. She had saved me from the stress of going to the chemist shop. At times I did forget that my mother had these pain relief drugs in her possession being a nurse.

We headed out of the room in a single file with me behind. I sat across from her in the dining. I grabbed the mugs and poured out some chocolate for both of us. Mother didn't wait, she was already munching her sandwich.

I suppose the others were still fast asleep, Salma, Teslim, and her kids. Did they not know what went down last night?

"I'll give you a thumbs up for this." She nodded, taking another bite of her sandwich. I grinned proudly as I set her mug in front of her on the table. I was about to say something but she cut me off.

"But one thing is missing. You didn't add garlic to the sauce." I cringed upon hearing that. I loathed garlic with passion but she was the direct opposite. Garlic was her favorite ingredient. Her meals were incomplete without it and sometimes I wondered if garlic was the secret ingredient of meals drool-worthy meals.

"Oh! It escaped my mind." I genuinely told her. It was not like I deliberately didn't add it, I was just glad that I forgot to. Mother would sometimes say 'It's only a witch that doesn't like the smell of garlic.' Well, call me a witch because I had never liked the smell of garlic.

"Try not to forget next time. You know how important garlic is in our daily meals."

"Tell me about it," I said under my breath, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

As usual, she started giving lectures on the nutritional values of garlic and some of her favorite ingredients. I caught myself rolling my eyes at every piece of the information she gave. She promised to teach me some of her secret recipes one of these days since our school was on vacation.

The tension between us had somehow dissolved in the middle of our discussion. I liked the way Mother and I settled our differences without having to apologize awkwardly to each other. It just came naturally, maybe because of the bond we shared. Was the bond that strong? Why did I always feel that she was hiding things from me? Like why didn't she tell me she was invited as well? Her smile was always halfway-it didn't always reach her stomach, not now, not when my father was alive.

We ate in silence for the next few minutes and when we were done eating I cleared the table. I almost forgot to take my pills but Umma reminded me. I headed to the living room and turned on the TV after gulping down two pills.

The news channel was playing. I swiftly tuned to a more interesting channel. I didn't listen to the news that often, most of the things happening on the news lately were heart-aching. I didn't want to get my heart tangled up because of some random news.

"Turn the news back on" She instructed and I groaned. I did as she commanded and made myself comfortable on the cushion while he sat on the couch.

Moments later the others were up. I informed them about the breakfast I made. Salma decided she would eat her breakfast in my room so we headed upstairs. On our way up I called Kulthum to inform her that we would come to visit her at the hospital later in the day. The hospital's visiting hours were four to six O'clock in the evening.

Kulthum informed me that her brother had been placed under isolation and was currently being observed by a special group of scientists.

"What? Why would they isolate Yusuf?" I asked glancing over at Salma whose eyes were now widened, her eyes were begging me to fill her in so I placed the phone on speaker so she could hear for herself.

"I have no idea. The doctors said the disease was a strange one and that they'd never seen anything like it. They had to quarantine him because they don't know for sure if the disease is contagious, just so he doesn't infect other people." As she explained I passed the phone to my left hand while I struggled to open the door with my other hand.

Once we made our way inside, Salma collected the phone and spoke to Kulthum, exchanging greetings as she placed her breakfast on the bed. When she finished she gave the phone back to me.

"So, how was the party?" Kulthum didn't fail to ask immediately after I held the phone in my hand. I told her everything that went down at the party, leaving out the garden bit.

"Wow! Was the guy really that cute ?" I heard her laugh at the other end. I could tell she was drooling already. Salma seemed very interested in the topic too as she grinned while chewing something.

"Oh please, you know I'm not a fangirl. So you better believe me when I said he was gorgeous."

"How gorgeous?" Asked Salma.

"Like a Greek god." I exaggerated a little, and an imaginary picture of Adonis, a character in Greek mythology flashed in my eyes. At least that was how I pictured him. "Oh wait, he looks like Zayn Malik." Her favorite celebrity. She was a die-hard fan.

"Shut up!" Salma yelped and I heard Kulthum chuckling. It was funny how Salma was the one playing Kulthum's role that day.

"Only that he kept his hair long, shoulder-length," I added, knowing the kind of thing they would love to hear. Only I knew how to bring this type of topic to the table in our little clique because I knew their obsession with rich and handsome guys, especially kulthum. It was a habit she couldn't help.

"He was that cute? I ignored her question and continued with my description."He looked Arabic but without his beard, he turned me off," I said and knew she had rolled her eyes at the other end.

"His name is Zayn and he looks like Zayn Malik?" Salma was smiling at something, I didn't know what she had going on in her head. "I can't wait to meet him in person and tell him that I'm his biggest fan." She collapsed on the bed, lying pale like a sick person.

"Are you okay?" I had to ask because I didn't know if her brain was still inside her Cranium. "I didn't say he was Zayn Malik though, by the way, don't even dream about meeting him in person because he's a proud peacock," I warned her while listening to Kulthum on the other end.

"Did he say anything to you afterward? Did he apologize after the incident? What was your first impression of him?" Were the numerous questions she threw at me.

"I told you already, he didn't say much. From his tone, I could tell he was arrogant. He was talking rudely to me." I told them about what went down when I ran into him in detail, making sure not to leave anything out and emphasizing how rudely he had acted.

"Hanny! Did you make that story up?'' Kulthum asked and I frowned. She knew I didn't drool over guys no matter how handsome they were. Unlike her, I liked to paint them black to prove that their looks didn't matter to me.

"I swear, he was rude. Have I ever lied to you?"

"How can someone that cute be rude?" Salma spluttered and I used the back of my hand to clean a particle of bolus she spat on my face.

"I have no idea," I shrugged my shoulders. "Guessed that's how some of these rich guys behave. Always acting like the world revolves around them."

"Really? Is that how Imran behaves too?" Now Salma was playing my own game with me and I heard kulthum laughing.

"Imran is nothing like his brother." I defended, not wanting to look suspicious regarding the near-kiss incident in the garden. After a long chat with Kulthum on the phone, we said our goodbyes and ended the call.

★★★★★

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